


Expressions of Joy

by lTofSmitia



Category: The Owl House (Cartoon)
Genre: Autism, Autistic Amity Blight, Autistic Luz Noceda, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Panic Attacks, Self-Hatred, Stimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29677434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lTofSmitia/pseuds/lTofSmitia
Summary: Luz always flaps her hands when she gets excited. Amity always finds herself staring. She’s not sure why. She’s not sure if she wants to know why. But the closer she gets to Luz, the more she learns about herself (whether she wants to or not).
Relationships: Amity Blight/Luz Noceda
Comments: 10
Kudos: 167





	Expressions of Joy

Expressions of Joy  
  


Amity Blight prides herself on her dignified demeanor. Where her older siblings are quick to cause trouble the second they leave an adult’s line of sight, Amity remains refined. Every action she takes, every word she utters, is measured and deliberate. Her careful control never falters, and its fruits are clear: Amity is the top student of Hexside, training under Lilith Clawthorne herself, popular and praised by all. As a proper Blight should be.

That is, unless things don’t go according to plan. How is Amity supposed to have her perfect reactions ready, if she doesn’t know what to expect? If Amity ever seems less than perfect (less than normal), it’s because someone surprised her. It’s what she hates about the human so much: nothing ever goes as expected when Luz is around.

* * *

The first time Amity sees Luz flap her hands in excitement, it’s across an aisle at the Covention. She doesn’t know how she can tell it is an expression of excitement, this far away, but this thought doesn’t occur to her until later in the evening. She also doesn’t know who she is repeating when she mutters _“So undignified.”_ This won’t occur to her for much longer.

The second time is also from a distance. It’s in the library, as Luz laughs at Ed and Em’s immature pranks. Amity scowls and grinds her teeth and forgets to breathe. Of course a troublemaker like the human would be so delighted to hang out with those two. She’s not sure why this, of all things, is the last straw. But she turns sharply and storms to the hassled librarians.

The third time, too, is from afar; but not like before. It’s quick: Amity is clutching Luz’s book, counting the seconds until she lashes at the twins; next, from across the market, her eyes meet Luz’s, then dart down, catching a couple flaps of her hands before the twins startle her to the ground.

It is the first time Amity has seen it since (befriending her) the library incident. It is also the first time Luz has flapped because of Amity (in front of her). Embarrassment at her siblings overrides the odd mixed emotions this briefly stirs.

The fourth time happens later that night. They’re both freezing and exhausted and relieved that their families are safe. Eda pats Luz on the head and praises her, and Amity finally sees Luz flap up close.

Luz is positively glowing. She’s beaming, cheering, bouncing on the balls of her feet, flapping her hands with such enthusiasm that she loses a worn-out glove. Exactly the kind of wanton display of emotion that should be mortifying for any witch with an ounce of dignity. Yet...

Amity eyes Eda (once she can look away from Luz), and she is not sure why at first. She realizes she’s watching for Eda’s reaction by the way it fails her unconscious expectations. Eda chuckles, snorts, magics Luz’s glove back to her hand, pats her head again. Amity shrugs this off; of course the infamous Owl Lady would have no interest in teaching Luz propriety.

The fifth time is from afar again. It’s while Amity is staring across the Hexside cafeteria at Luz’s table. She and Half-a-Witch and the twelve-year-old are crowded around a book. This is when Amity starts to lose count (and notices that she was keeping track). Still, each time Luz flaps around her, Amity is painfully aware. She can no longer convince herself she’s merely shocked at the human’s raucousness. She keeps this explanation on hand, in case anyone asks (no one does).

* * *

She still repeats the words to Luz, once. She still does not know who she is repeating. Amity is walking with Boscha and the others, passing Luz and her friends, who are laughing loudly. As Augustus finishes his little light show, Luz progresses from tapping on her legs to flapping her hands. It’s only a couple flaps this time.

Their expressions turn sour in unison. Boscha’s elbow in her side jolts Amity from her staring.

“Right, Amity?”

“Right,” Amity repeats naturally. But she’s tense. She did not catch the insult Boscha threw at Luz’s group. She follows up with the only thing on her mind. “Did you see that thing with her hands? So undignified.”

“What, this?” Boscha flails her hands and snickers. It’s nothing like the way Luz flaps. A second later, Amity’s friends are all mocking the motion. Amity cannot bring herself to join in, so she steps back and hopes that her friends don’t notice, and ideally that she melts into the floor.

It catches Luz’s attention. Her wounded glare turns to Amity and it’s like an icicle to the chest. Willow pats her friend’s shoulder and leads her away by the hand. Amity hardly hears another word her friends say.

That look has not stopped weighing on Amity by the time she sits at her library hideout’s desk after school. She’s rereading recent diary entries and groaning at how Luz-centric they have become. By now, Amity’s fantasies about Luz have grown too frequent and detailed to maintain internal denial about her feelings. But just because “Do I have a crush on Luz?” was answered does not mean that Amity has no followup questions for… herself.

Questions like why she is so hung up on the flapping. Does it annoy her? Yes. Is it cute? Also yes. Amity is determined to dig no deeper than that (for now). So she spends the rest of today’s entry venting her fear that Luz must hate her now. The next few will chronicle her gradual realization that Luz does not, in fact, hate her. Amity resolves to find a chance to make it up to her anyway.

But, because Amity is a coward, she has yet to do so by the time she burns Willow’s memories. She can’t let anyone know that she _wants_ to do something nice for Luz. It has to seem like no big deal to anyone else. She keeps overanalyzing every opportunity until she talks herself out of it.

When she sees Luz and Augustus in the photography classroom doorway, it goes beyond “icicle to the chest.” Surely this will destroy their delicate friendship. Surely, Luz really will hate her this time. Amity deserves it.

Luz is angry, of course, but by the time they reach the Owl House, it’s clear she doesn’t hate Amity, either. She only insists that Amity help her repair the damage she caused. Once they’re in Willow’s mind, Luz already acts like she’s forgiven. As many reasons as Amity has to be nervous, she is secretly glad to be forced into making amends (since she never seems to manage it on her own).

Whatever Amity’s “watching Luz flap” count is at, the number jumps drastically while in Willow’s mind. It’s more in response to memories she deems “adorable” than Amity (though many of those do contain Amity). The cuteness chips away at Amity’s annoyance each time. She starts to sense that there’s a deeper discomfort beneath it.

But the looming threat of Luz seeing the worst of Amity, of Luz finally hating her like she should, leaves little room for that particular introspection. The rest of Amity is consumed with how painfully she misses Willow. Everything about today seems aligned to make Amity feel weak and vulnerable and unworthy. Everything she shouldn’t be but knows she is.

Yet somehow, Amity leaves the Owl House hated less than before. She stops by the library to record her longest diary entry to date before going home. By the time she goes to bed, she’s feeling… tentative hope? That maybe she and Willow can be friends again, that maybe Luz will not wind up hating her, (that maybe she actually has a chance).

The warm elation that spreads through Amity at this thought catches her off guard. Her mind rapidly plays all the moments with Luz (and a few old ones with Willow) when she has felt this warmth. Amity is happy, happier than she has been in years, and—

She is abruptly aware that she is flapping her hands. She stops at once. The words play unbidden in her head. _So undignified._ The warmth is extinguished. Amity recoils from the memories dredged up this time. She tells herself that Luz is rubbing off on her (and to be careful not to show it). She stares at her ceiling, absentmindedly rubbing her silk pillows, until she’s calm enough to sleep.

Grom night is around the corner now. Amity carries a straightforward pink letter around for a week. Once again, she manages to talk herself out of every opportunity. She is no less a coward; she still can’t shake the fear of Luz hating her. She knows she will cry in front of the entire school if she faces Grom. Everyone will watch her fail, know it’s her fault the Fearbringer is loose, know it’s because she’s in love with someone too good for her.

But nothing ever goes as expected when Luz is around. When Luz proclaims herself Amity’s “fearless champion,” she can barely hold in the surge of emotion. She’s determined to show Luz that she’s grateful, that she cares, this time. She’s even willing to recruit Ed and Em to help Luz prepare. She still fidgets with the letter folded in her pocket, but it remains there.

At Grom night, Luz looks as simultaneously strange and charming as Amity knows she is. Perfect, in other words. She’s grown so strong since they met. Amity believes in her champion.

But when Grometheus takes the slithery, amorphous shape of a woman who must be Luz’s mother, Amity sees the confidence melt from her. A wave of self-hatred overcomes Amity. Of course Luz has fears that run as deep as Amity’s, even if she can’t name them. Amity can even empathize: she would have faced her own mother’s form here a month ago. How could she have forced Luz to take her place? Amity didn’t deserve her.

Luz flees, and it shakes Amity out of her mental spiral. All this anxious overthinking has done nothing but paralyze Amity lately, keeping her from (Luz) doing what she knows she should. Right now, _Luz_ deserves Amity’s help. Nothing else matters.

The look of disgust in the fake Luz’s eyes as she rips the letter hurts worse than she could have guessed. The next moment, with the real Luz behind her, lasts far too long.

“You were afraid of getting rejected…?” Luz mutters. There is no recognition in her voice, only sympathy. “It’s okay, Amity! What if I went to Grom with you instead?”

Amity could almost laugh. The anxious tension rapidly unwinds as she processes that Luz is now her date without her even having to ask. She’s left with an adrenaline high, a soaring confidence beyond any she felt before Luz.

Grometheus is an afterthought for them both now. They pay the demon only as much focus as needed to land their attacks. She’s amazed how naturally they fall in sync, in movements and in magic. There is no fear left; Amity is dancing with the girl she loves and nothing else matters.

When Grom is defeated and they are hoisted by the cheering crowd, Amity is fleetingly mortified. She hadn’t noticed their audience, assumed they were sharing a private moment. Her face turns embarrassingly red when King proclaims them “our two Grom queens.”

Then she looks over at Luz, all smiles and cheers and ecstatic hand flaps. She’s beautiful. Stunningly beautiful. Luz is at her prettiest when she’s happy. How could Amity have ever seen such a pure expression of joy as less than beautiful?

Amity realizes she’s still trying to compress the warmth that wants to spread through her. It’s instinct. But she’s with Luz, and nothing else matters. She lets her laughter bubble out, lets herself _feel_ the happiness Luz is radiating, and now it’s instinct to let her hands flap.

* * *

Grom night changed Amity’s life. This is not an exaggeration. The part of her that genuinely wanted to be a proper, dignified Blight is gone. The light and warmth Luz has brought into her life far outshines the meager approval she had been scrounging for.

Amity is comfortable around Luz. Too comfortable. Nothing she does is “measured and deliberate” anymore when she’s with her. Words she would normally swallow burst from her mouth until she embarrasses herself. Her hands fidget and twitch and she finds that patting her legs repeatedly is less conspicuous. Luz makes Amity run off pure instinct.

As Willow could attest, Amity’s social instincts are trash. She clung to every rule she was told because she is clueless on her own. She sincerely has no idea how to act around her.

It’s a real problem, because Amity still needs to be a proper, dignified Blight whether she wants to or not. More than ever, after she stands up to Boscha on Willow’s behalf. Once word gets back to her parents, Amity needs to be otherwise impossible to criticize. But it’s hard to meet their expectations when Luz comes first now.

(She shudders to think what they would say, if they knew she was in love with a magicless human. She’s nowhere near ready for that part.)

Once again, Amity moves past these worries the moment Luz is in trouble. She flounders through asking Luz’s friends for help (though she’s not used to asking for help and rambles about Luz too much again). And when she realizes that Gus, a twelve-year-old illusion specialist, should probably not go up against Hexside’s most brutal grudgby captain ever, Amity is ready. She knows what Luz would do (wow, what a useful metric).

She leaves the game with a loss, a broken leg, and an irreparable social standing. She also leaves in Luz’s arms, so Amity considers it a win. She is unaware of the way she flaps her hands against her lap when Luz offers to carry her. But being less agonizingly self-conscious has been good for her. She’s hardly even embarrassed when she splutters,

“Wow… sports.”

Later, only Amity and Luz are left in the living room of the Owl House. Amity has technically been here before, but this is her first time (with her new friends) on purely amicable terms. Her cast is covered with names and doodles. Remnants of games and snacks are scattered across all surfaces not already cluttered. The Owl House is a mess fit for an outlaw.

Watching the “DVD” version of Azura 2, under a blanket, with Luz and hot tea, Amity decides she likes it here. It’s so blatantly imperfect that it alleviates the internal pressure to be perfect herself. She’s relaxed here. Relaxed! What a concept. 

“So?” Luz says when the “TV” fades to black, leaning towards Amity. “Thoughts?”

Where Azura is concerned, at least, Amity has overcome her fear of talking too much. She has thoughts.

“I don’t know about that “montage” part. The book makes the training so detailed! And they completely botched Hecate’s arc! How is this supposed to lead into her downfall and redemption? Did they plan ahead at all?”

Amity realizes she has only complained and glances at Luz. She is leaning closer and nodding along.

“Buuuut?” Luz is grinning. The fact that she can sense the imminent “but” might mean she knows Amity too well. She sighs.

“But… oh my gods those smibbitch scenes were _cool_. The impact of that thorn vault! And...”

Amity talks and talks and talks. Luz is watching her closely, so close, goofy-grinned and starry-eyed. Amity can tell, out of the corner of her eye as she rambles. It’s only when Luz flaps her hands that Amity realizes she has been rapidly patting her own lap.

Amity stops her words and flaps (and breathing) at once. She’s staring at Luz’s hands now, which still a moment later. They hang awkwardly, then droop with the joy on her face.

“Sorry, that’s distracting, huh?” Luz tries to laugh. Her hands fidget in her lap. “I’ll stop, so go ahead—”

Amity has grabbed Luz’s hands before she knows it. She can’t bear to see Luz like this. She raises their clasped hands and again (with greater difficulty) lets her words spill out.

“It’s not distracting! And it’s not undignified!”

Luz’s eyes are wide and staring into hers and so close, close enough to count her eyelashes and see the subtle patterns in her warm brown irises. She has such pretty eyes.

Focus, Amity.

“I’m... sorry I made fun it, the other week. I didn’t mean it, I was just trying to keep up with Boscha— but that’s no excuse. You of all people shouldn’t have to— to hold it in, like me.”

Amity’s pleading expression melts into dread as she hears her own words. She hadn’t meant to let those last two slip. Her eyes and hands retreat from Luz’s. She has never admitted out loud to anyone that she is… less than normal.

“Amity?”

Amity feels too tense to move, but she turns to Luz without thinking. This time, Luz takes her hands. A gasp escapes Amity.

“It’s okay.” Luz has their eyes locked, and hers are so firmly accepting that Amity cannot turn away. “Don’t worry, today made up for anything you did with Boscha. But Amity, you shouldn’t have to hold it in, either. No one should have to pretend to be someone they’re not!”

“But… I’m a _Blight_ , and it’s undign—” Amity cuts the word off. Luz’s smile grows mischievous.

“That’s not what you said a second ago~” Luz singsongs, lets Amity’s hands go and scoots to sit right beside her. “You already admitted it’s okay! You don’t have to listen to the jerks who called you that! Forget _their_ dignity! You can be _you_!”

It’s these words that finally make Amity realize she _is_ repeating someone. It only takes a second longer to realize it’s her mother. The memories it stirs are so old that they hardly even qualify as _memories_. All that remains is her mother’s words and the paralyzing shame. The feeling dominated her early childhood, and she forgot (suppressed) it because she had never given anyone a reason to make her feel ashamed for a long time. She has been measured and deliberate, _perfect_ and _normal_ , for years now.

(Until Luz, of course.)

Amity is fighting tears, skirt clenched in fists. When Luz pats her shoulder, her conviction has faded to concern. Amity can’t meet her eyes now, so she stares at the cluttered table again.

“It was my mom…” she whispers.

Luz gasps, then hisses, as though burned. Then she puts her arm around Amity, and it’s a testament to her current distress that Amity doesn’t flinch. She’s too exhausted to do anything but lean into Luz’s warmth. For a while, they sit there silently.

It takes Amity a few tries to get her words out.

“It’s okay when you do it…” she finally mutters. “You’re amazing, Luz. You’re kind and understanding and it shows in everything you do. And you’re so… free. Anyone would love you if they knew you.”

Amity’s face flushes, but Luz looks too stunned to notice. She averts her eyes and rubs the back of her neck with the arm not around Amity’s shoulders. Is her face a little redder, too?

“Gosh, Amity,” is all she says. Amity finds herself leaning closer. She is deeply tempted to see where this mood takes them. But she needs to get the next words off her chest.

Deep breath, Amity.

“But I’m not like you, Luz. I’m not _good_ like you. I’m a Blight. Being a perfect witch is the only way anyone will respect someone like me. If I’m not… normal… I—”

Amity chokes. Her next words won’t come. Then she loses them entirely. The shame builds until it’s a physical pressure, whiting out her senses, squeezing the air from her—

“Stay with me, girl.” Luz, softly, beside her. “Breathe with me.”

Amity can feel Luz’s deep, steady breaths. When she tries to match the rhythm, she shudders. She’s present, but still hyperventilating. Luz rubs her back gently as she breathes, up and in, down and out,

Up and in,

Down and out...

Amity falls into Luz’s pace. It’s a while before she can think about anything else. Her attempts to speak up don’t get past the first syllable. Luz is watching her closely, but doesn’t push her. Eventually, she asks,

“Can I tell you something, Amity?”

Listening sounds much easier than talking. Amity nods against Luz’s shoulder. Still keeping her breathing steady.

Luz takes a deep breath, too.

“I used to hold in my stims, too.” (Stims. Amity notes the new term.) “I felt a lot like you do, back in my world.”

She pauses, frowning with concentration. Amity’s still in a fog, so she’s only just processed what Luz means when she continues.

“I don’t think I’m as good at repression as you,” Luz says, laughing nervously. Amity giggles at these carefully-chosen words (wow, it’s hard to stay miserable around Luz).

“Back on Earth, people could tell I was different the second I started talking. But you mask like a pro! It didn’t even cross my mind until we got close, and I know what to look for!”

Amity is having trouble following, but tries her hardest. Luz seems to be praising Amity’s ability to… appear normal? Amity is briefly, bitterly satisfied that her constant efforts were indeed successful (until they got close). Luz seems quite knowledgeable about... weirdness? And Amity has never been so desperate to learn more.

“Um,” Luz says. She looks like she’s noticed Amity’s confusion. “What I mean is, I know how it feels to try your best to fit in and never feel like you’re getting it right. I only stopped trying so hard once I moved here, with Eda. She was the first person to tell me that being weird is okay. To make me feel accepted as me. It was kind of life changing.”

Luz pauses. More time for Amity’s addled brain to catch up. The thought of Luz under that paralyzing shame breaks Amity’s heart.

“That’s why I had to say that first. That it’s okay,” Luz fades into a whisper. “I hoped I could change yours.”

The love in her voice makes Amity feel suddenly too warm. But she doesn’t pull away. She doesn’t let her hopes get _too_ high, but… Luz cares about her. She looks just as heartbroken, seeing Amity like this. Luz _is_ the first person to tell her that being weird is okay. And she’s already changed Amity’s life.

“Gosh,” Luz whispers. Her free hand is flapping against her lap, while the one around Amity flaps (pleasantly) on her shoulder. Did Amity voice that last thought? “I’m so happy to hear that.”

She did. But it made Luz happy enough to flap (on Amity’s shoulder!!!), so maybe she should let some more sappy thoughts she would never have uttered before leak out.

“You mean so much to me, Luz,” Amity mutters. Her voice is raspy, but she pushes through the embarrassment. “Thank you for… everything. I’m so lucky you came into my life.”

An elated squeak escapes Luz. Her hands were slowing down, but they flap tap pat (stim?) even more rapidly. Amity looks up at the wide grin on Luz’s face (and yes, her cheeks are definitely a touch pinker). Amity is smiling, too. She sighs and leans into the warmth and enjoys the rhythm of Luz’s joy on her shoulder until it’s gone, along with the whole arm around her.

“Sorry, was that annoying?” Luz is rubbing the back of her neck, looking sheepish. It was so far from annoying that Amity is startled. Then she realizes this is the second time tonight that Luz has derailed herself to apologize for her flapping. She suspects that Luz is repeating someone, that _distracting_ and _annoying_ might be her _undignified_.

Then she thinks back to that smirk Luz got when Amity almost called herself that. She dons her own best smirk.

“It’s okay, Luz. You aren’t annoying.” Amity pats Luz’s shoulder (the closer one; she’s not bold enough). It gets her attention. “As a wise witch once told me: you don’t have to listen to the jerks who called you that.”

Luz blushes; it’s obvious this time. For a second, she looks like she could cry, but she breaks into a beautiful smile before Amity can worry. She laughs and flaps and stumbles over her words and Amity can’t recall Luz this flustered.

“You’re right!” Luz says, a little loudly for how close they are. She’s rubbing the couch repeatedly now. “Sounds like she must’ve been wise indeed. Maybe we can help each other remember that?”

Amity nods eagerly, her heart soaring at this very personal promise. Luz takes a quick, deep breath,

“Because you mean a lot to me too!” Amity can feel her face burning. “You’re like, probably the closest friend I’ve ever had by now. I’d do anything to make sure you’re okay.”

Amity’s elation grows with each word. She’s dizzyingly happy, _giddy_ in a way she’s never felt before. She stutters too hard to form a coherent reply, but

But—

But she flaps her hands. There’s no room left for shame. Luz accepts her for _her_ , and nothing else matters. The motion of her hands both soothes and elates her. Like she’s soaring among the clouds, but simultaneously more grounded here than ever. It’s such a natural expression of joy.

“Amity!!” Luz squeals, stimming along with her. “You’re so cute!! I could get used to happy stimmy Amity!”

Amity’s face must be on fire. Her hands fall to drum on her lap. She’s started rubbing her feet on the carpet, to similar effect. Wow, it feels nice to let go.

And Luz thinks she’s cute when she stims. Compelling motivation to keep letting herself do it. She thinks back to Grom night, when she was stunned by how beautiful Luz looks when she’s so happy.

“You look cute, too, when you stim,” Amity says. The word is foreign on her tongue, but having it is a relief. “You’re so pretty when you’re happy.”

Luz blushes (Amity’s getting better at noticing), glancing away and missing Amity’s own nervous fidgets. Luz sips her long-untouched tea, and so does Amity. It’s still good cold.

“You feeling okay, now?” Luz asks. Amity distrusts her mouth, so she nods eagerly. Luz smiles. “You can talk to me about autistic stuff anytime you want.”

“Autistic?” Amity repeats the new word. Luz opens her mouth, closes it, slaps her forehead.

“Wow, I really didn’t even say it until now, huh?” Luz chuckles. “That’s what we are! Our brand of weirdness is called _autism_ , so you’d say we’re _autistic_! Nice to have a word for it, huh?”

It is. All her life, Amity has felt defined by her failings, by all the things she’s not. She could never articulate what she _is_. But now she has a word, for herself and Luz and people like them (and there _are_ people like them). Amity is autistic.

“Wanna watch the first Azura movie?” Luz asks. “It’s… about the same, quality-wise, but I like to hear your criticism, too. We can make more tea?”

Amity taps her feet at the compliment and smirks. “Good, because I love to criticize.”

Soon, they’re back under the blanket with fresh minty tea. Luz finishes hers by the time Azura receives her quest, then wraps her arm back around Amity’s shoulders. Amity lets herself relax against the girl she loves.

A month ago, Amity could never have guessed that she would be here, in the house of a notorious criminal, cuddling with a human, who accepts her for all her weirdness and has helped her start to truly understand herself. But nothing ever goes as expected when Luz is around. And that’s what she loves about the human so much.

**Author's Note:**

> Me originally: what if I wrote a short little scene about Luz normalizing stimming for Amity  
> Me immediately afterwards: well first we have to do an entire Amity character analysis  
> I finally watched Owl House like a month ago and I’ve already watched it four times. It’s probably the autism


End file.
